


And We All Go On

by ridoma (Diminuendo)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, domestic abuse, hinting at domestic abuse, i'm sorry i love Wade, this fic took a fuckin angsty turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diminuendo/pseuds/ridoma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Peter's visits to Aunt May's grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We All Go On

"Aunt May, know how you said it's important to accept people? Regardless of their appearance, rumours and past? I think I finally understand. Finally know what you meant the whole time. You see, if I didn't accept Wade—give him a chance—I didn't think that I'd be this happy," Peter paused for a moment, and then let out a fond sigh.

"Too bad you're dead, Wade would've loved you, speaking of that, he actually declared that he loves you, like two weeks ago. Notice I used present tense, because he refuses to say 'loved.' well, it's not I like stopped loving you, so I understand," Peter began making designs in the ground, he sighed in delight from the wonderful cool feel of the dirt under him. "It was kinda really funny, because I was just reading, and then he stomps inside my— _our_ , room, and then screams it. Louder than King-Kong and Tarzan's hybrid child—if they could have one," he bit his lip, and an idea popped into his head. His designs in the ground began to take familiar form.

 "But anyways, I came to thank you for everything, for this life. For caring for me, for not kicking me out of your home when I came covered in bruises. I owe you and Uncle Ben everything. . . And I love you guys, so, so much," he looked behind his shoulder, Wade was looking at the sky, distracted and _out of earshot._ He stopped drawing on the ground. 

 Peter made his tone softer, barely above a whisper, "But I wish you made me less—what's the word?—oh, yeah. . . _'Trusting.'"_

 Peter stood up, knowing that if he stayed any longer, trouble would manifest itself. He walked back to Wade and his rusty Ford, his sneakers making a squelching sound as they slapped against the muddy ground. The wind blew briefly, the chill that came forth was more unsettling than relaxing, and could be almost be described as a portent.

 Autumn leaves danced.

Wind blew.

Time ticked on.

 But no one noticed the clearly drawn, _'HELP ME,'_ at Aunt May's grave.

 And no one will.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so basically this was going to be funny, like Peter was going to introduce Aunt May to Wade, right? But then I was like, "Let's make Aunt May dead and make Peter talk to her grave." But then I realized there are already those 'talking to the grave ohhh bet u didnt figure that out til the end' fics so I wanted to take a different turn. So here, have some really fucking sad Spideypool.


End file.
